Word Count: 8,590
Polyvore: look for sarcasticfina - check under collections for one named after this story
Episode: Pilot – "Wolf Moon" (continued)

ii

Malia sat in the grass, her bag beside her and her biology book open in her lap. A half-eaten sandwich lay in a container next to her knee, along with a bag of grapes and her favorite water bottle, littered in faded stickers.

"Are you reading ahead?" Scott's shadow fell across her, blocking out the warmth of the sun.

"Hey." She looked up at him and leaned her back against the trunk of her favorite tree. "I'm hoping if I start now, it'll be over sooner."

Half-smiling, he took a seat next to her, sliding his bag off his shoulders as he went. "It's a theory. Let me know how it pans out."

"Will do." Hooking her finger in the bag of grapes, she pulled it closer and popped a couple into her mouth. "I thought you'd still be inside, trying to not-so-subtly keep an eye on the new girl."

"What?" His face flamed a telling pink. This was far from the first time Scott had had a crush. There'd been other girls before; some fleeting, some not so much. He hadn't dated any of them. Not yet, anyway. Scott was more of the 'longing' type, who fell in love from afar but never acted on his feelings. She never understood the hold up. He was a good guy; anybody would be lucky to date him. "I'm not watching Allison."

"Uh-huh." Malia crossed her legs at the ankle and waited.

A beat passed, and then another, before finally—

"She's pretty though, right? And she seems nice."

"Great hair, awesome fashion sense, super smile. Yeah, she's pretty." Malia flicked open the lid of her water bottle and took a long drag. When she was done, she rubbed her mouth dry against her wrist. "Have you tried talking to her?"

"What would I say?"

"It's always good to start with 'hello.'"

Scott rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. I suck at talking to girls. Every time I try, my palms sweat and my heart starts pounding and, I don't know, it's like I can't make words anymore." He groaned. "I'm gonna be single forever."

"Hardly. So what if you're nervous. Maybe she likes that in a guy."

His brow furrowed. "Nobody likes nervous guys."

"Hey, don't speak for the rest of the world. Cockiness is a mood killer, too. Look at Whittemore."

"Jackson's dating the most popular girl in the school and he's the captain of the lacrosse team… I don't think he's exactly hurting for attention."

"No, but he's a dick."

Scott snorted. "I'm not sure what your point is."

"I forget. Mostly I just wanted to insult him." She shrugged. "Job done."

Shaking his head, Scott sighed. "I just don't want to screw up before I've even started."

"Seriously, all you have to do is say 'hi.' You just said that she looked nice. If she is, she'll say 'hi' back and you can go from there."

He stared at her uncertainly. "Maybe," he eventually said.

Malia held her grapes out to him. "You want one?"

Perking up, he reached for the bag, but she pulled it out of reach before he could touch it. "Sike. That's what you get for stealing my licorice."

"You stole it back!"

"Semantics."

With a slow-building grin, Scott suddenly lunged toward her, tackling her sideways as he tried to wrestle the grapes from her hands.

"Stop!" She laughed. "You're gonna squish them!"

"Grape tease!" He managed to hook his finger in part of the bag and pulled on it. It tore open and the grapes spilled across Malia's face, falling into her hair and rolling across the grass.

Scott laughed and toppled backwards.

"See!" Malia reached up to pick them out of her hair, rubbing one on her shirt before she dropped it in her mouth.

Laying on his side next to her, head propped on his hand, he smiled down at her with soft eyes and a crooked mouth. Reaching over, he picked one up from just beside her ear and ate it.

Malia wrinkled her nose at him before shoving her hand in his face.

He chuckled, shaking his head and rubbing his face against her palm.

Malia let him go and tucked her arms behind her head. "You've got practice after school, right?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Are you coming?"

She shrugged. "Nowhere else to go."

He rolled his eyes. "Also, I want to head back to the woods after. I need to find my inhaler."

"You really think we'll be able to find it out there?"

"They're like eighty bucks. I have to try."

Letting out a dramatic and long-suffering sigh, she nodded. "Fine. Partly because I lost my phone but also because I like your mom and don't want her to have to work overtime just because your lungs are dicks."

"Colorful. But, thank you."

"You're welcome."

They were quiet for a few minutes, just laying in the grass. The sun warm and a cool breeze rustling the tree branches above. Groups of people were scattered around the school grounds, far enough away that Malia could almost pretend it was just her and Scott. Not for long, though. She still had another class after lunch to look forward to. And she really should get back to reading ahead in her biology book, but—

A tiny tickle against her nose made her shake her head.

She looked over to see Scott holding a long piece of grass just an inch away from her face. He smiled innocently, but she knew better.

"Pest." Malia turned over to face him better and grabbed up a handful of grass by its roots, tossing the whole thing at his face.

"I used one piece and you threw like, a bucket!"

"Go hard or go home."

A slow grin pulled his lips up. "If that's how you wanna play it…" Scott started plucking up handfuls of grass.

Malia quickly started doing the same.

What started out small became an all-out grass war, that only ended because Stiles stumbled upon them and shook his head in mock disappointment.

"You're lucky Vice Principal James isn't out here or you'd get slapped with detention and have to plant new grass. Look at all this…"

Admittedly, the ground was a little patchy around them, but Malia couldn't help but be happy. Her heart was beating a little too fast and her stomach was twisted up in the best type of knots. There was a strange kind of high that she got when she spent time with Scott like this. When all her responsibilities and worries just drained away and all that was left was the two of them.

"You gonna turn us in?" Scott joked.

"I should. This is like, school vandalism of the grass variety." Stiles plopped down to sit with them, only to frown at something on the ground. "What's with all the grapes?"

Malia and Scott exchanged a look. In a split second, they were both grabbing up grapes from the ground and pelting Stiles with them.

It was times like these that Malia found herself beyond grateful that she had these two dorks for best friends.

…

After school, Malia found herself sitting on the benches, a piece of licorice dangling from her mouth and a book in her lap. Much as she wanted to be there to cheer the boys on, she also knew that the chances of Stiles or Scott getting much time to show off their skills was small. Reading was the kind of hobby that she only liked outside of school. If a book wasn't an assigned requirement, she could happily bury her nose in one, but as soon as it was added to the required reading list, she lost all interest. It made for an eclectic variety of books on her shelf back home and a hurdle when it came to English class.

"McCall!" Coach Finstock shouted. "You're on goal."

Scott dropped his other gear to catch the lacrosse stick and goalie's helmet the coach had thrown him. "I- I've never played."

"I know. Scoring some shots will give the boys a confidence boost. It's a first day back thing." He clapped Scott's shoulder. "Get 'em energized, fired up!"

"What about me?"

"Try not to take any in the face." He tapped Scott's cheek and then turned to the field, clapping as he yelled, "Let's go! Come on!"

Malia frowned, closing her book as she looked across the field. Scott pulled on the goalie gear and shook his head at a confused and curious Stiles standing nearby.

In front of her, Allison and Lydia Martin took a seat on the benches.

While Malia had been attending school with Lydia for years now, she could only count on one hand how many interactions they'd had. She had nothing against the other girl. Lydia was crazy smart and very determined. Much as she felt bad for Stiles and his doomed crush, Malia held no grudges. She wanted Stiles to be happy, but she also believed women should always be able to say no to any and all affection turned their direction. And as someone who had rejected her fair share of people since puberty hit, Malia didn't see anything wrong with that. That said, however, she and Lydia were far from friends. They simply existed in the same school environment and she was content with it staying that way.

As Scott took up his new and unfamiliar position in the goal, Malia was surprised to hear Allison ask, "Who's that?"

Lydia followed her vision toward Scott and cocked her head. "Him…? I'm not sure who he is. Why?"

Allison shook her head. "He's in my English class."

A sharp whistle cut across the field.

Malia watched, confused, as Scott suddenly gripped his helmet, falling to his knees and shaking his head.

She stood from her seat on the bench, discarding her book to the side. Just as she took a step forward, a ball connected with the front of Scott's helmet, knocking him backwards and off his feet to land awkwardly in the net.

Scattered laughter erupted from the team and the coach.

"Hey, way to catch the ball with your face, McCall!" Jackson called out in a smarmy voice.

Stiles dropped his head, groaning.

Malia made her way over to him. "Hey, did you see that?"

"Uh, I think everyone saw that…"

She rolled her eyes. "Not that. Before that."

"No. Why? What happened."

She plopped down onto the bench next to him. "He looked like he was in pain. You didn't notice?"

"I was a little distracted getting ready. What'd you see, exactly?"

She frowned. "I don't know. It was just weird."

Scott stood, rolling his shoulders around and regaining his balance.

As another player took a run forward and threw the ball, Malia was surprised to see Scott catch it rather easily.

Stiles perked up. "Looks like he's doing okay now."

Malia pursed her lips, but sat forward to watch.

Another player stepped up, only to have his ball caught, too.

Stiles let out an excited whoop.

One after another, player after player took their chances and Scott caught every one.

Don't get her wrong, Malia knew he'd practiced. He'd spent all last summer and every day of winter break practicing. Even Christmas saw him geared up and in the backyard. But, much as she rooted for him, she knew that athletics didn't come entirely easy to him. Catching one or two balls was one thing, catching all of them was another.

And then Jackson stepped forward, shoving his teammates back irritably and making his way to the front of the line.

"Ass," Malia muttered. Less due to the frequent reminders that Jackson was exactly that and more to the fact that right now, it was clear that Scott was having a winning streak, which meant Jackson just had to remind everybody that he was the shining star of the lacrosse team. She could've rolled her eyes if she wasn't feeling the hopeful anticipation that a miracle might result in Scott actually putting Whittemore in his place.

She swore she could feel the whole field's worth of people hold their breath as Jackson ran forward, scooped up a ball, and took his best shot.

It was a small victory for the little guy when Scott actually caught the ball.

Stiles leapt off the bench to punch the air with both fists, letting out a cry of shocked elation.

Malia shook her head, grinning as she clapped proudly.

Scott turned toward them, smiling, and spun his lacrosse stick in his hand.

"This is my friend!" Stiles announced.

Behind them, Lydia stood to cheer, too. And Malia wondered if the upper echelon of popular kids wasn't playing a game of chicken. Much as she wanted Scott to get on the team, she wasn't sure how she'd feel about someone like Lydia or Jackson stealing him away. Actually, no, she knew exactly how she'd feel. Pissed and betrayed.

Shaking her head of the thought, she reminded herself that Scott was the most loyal person she'd ever met. She had nothing to worry about. And then he tossed the ball to the assistant coach in a too-suave move over his shoulder. What a dork.

That didn't stop her from cheering him on the rest of practice, though.

…

After practice, Malia joined the boys in their search of the preserve for Scott's lost inhaler, her phone, and oh right, a severed body.

"How do you know your dad's deputies haven't found the other half yet?"

"Because, I'd know!" Stiles marched ahead, waving a long stick around to smack at stray branches and bushes. "Everything looks different in here during the day. Are you sure we're going in the right direction?"

"No," Scott admitted frankly. "I just remember the hill. The one we climbed last night? It's the same one I fell down."

"I can confirm that." Malia walked along a mossy log like a tightrope. "Not as much the falling down as the being semi-mauled at the bottom."

"Well, that's something." Stiles sighed. "I wonder what it was… I mean, if it's not a wolf—"

"And it howls."

"Maybe it was a coyote," Scott suggested.

Malia shook her head and leapt off the end of the log to land in a pile of wet leaves. She kicked them loose from her boots with a frown. "No. It was way too big for a coyote. I mean, it was massive."

"Well, what if you just heard a coyote howl, but you were actually attacked by like, a bear or something." Stiles looked between them. "We have black bears around here. Not a lot of them. They're actually in decline, but it's more plausible than a wolf."

Malia pursed her lips skeptically. "Maybe."

"Anyway, I wanna hear more about someone's amazing goal tending today." Stiles turned to Scott and knocked his hand against his shoulder. "What was that, dude? I didn't know you had it in you."

The three of them made their way across a small creek, mucky water sloshing against their shoes as they went.

Scott grinned. "I don't know what it was. It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball."

Malia hummed. "Maybe all that training's really paying off."

"Maybe. I don't know. It was weird. And that's not the only weird thing. I- I can hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear. Smell things.

"Smell things?" Stiles snorted a laugh. "Like what?"

Scott lifted his head, took a second to sniff, and then said, "Like the mint-mojito gum in your pocket."

"I don't even have any mint-mojito…" Stiles dug around in his jacket, pulled a face, and then produced a barely-wrapped piece of gum. "Huh."

Scott threw his arms out in a 'see?' motion before he nodded toward Malia. "Or like the cherry Chapstick Malia's got in her bag."

Stiles shook his head. "Now that doesn't prove anything… Malia's always had cherry Chapstick. She's halfway addicted to that junk."

"I am not." She shoved his shoulder, sending him stumbling sideways, and then looked to Scott. "But, he's right. I've had that in there for a while."

He sighed. "Okay, well, what about the Skittles then?"

Malia frowned. She had a pack of Sour Skittles tucked away in one of the pockets of her bag. "How'd you know?"

"Skittles, too?" Stiles tossed his hands up. "What is it with you and sugar?"

"Shut up, I just got my period. You know I eat more junk food that time of the month."

Stiles rolled his eyes while Scott nodded knowingly. "That'd explain the chocolate bar, too. Something with… coconut?"

"Oh my God, rat me out why don't you!"

Scott grinned lightly.

But Stiles had his 'detective' face on. "So, all this started after the bite, right?"

Scott's face flat-lined and then his brows hiked with worry. "What if it's like an infection, like, my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?"

"You know what? I actually think I've heard of this…" Stiles nodded. "It's a specific kind of infection."

Scott stopped walking abruptly. "Are you serious?"

Stiles put his hands on his hips, fingers tapping excitedly. "Yeah. Yeah, I think it's called… lycanthropy."

Behind them, Malia rolled her eyes.

"What's that?" Scott worried. "Is that bad?"

"Oh, yeah, it's the worst. But, only once a month."

Scott's head reared back in confusion. "Once a month?"

"Mm- hmm. On the night of the full moon." Stiles howled cheerfully, "Arooo!"

Scott deflated and shoved at him.

With a laugh, Stiles said, "Hey, you're the one who heard a wolf howling."

"Something definitely howled," Malia said. "Wolf, coyote, psycho killer with a set of pipes, I don't know. But, I know I heard a howl."

"Yeah," Scott agreed. "And hey, there could be something seriously wrong with me."

"I know! You're a werewolf!" Stiles raised his hands like they were claws. "Rrr!"

Scott shot him an unamused look.

"Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's 'cause Friday's a full moon."

Malia crossed her arms. "The fact that you know that off the top of your head is weird."

"What? I like to stay apprised of stuff like this. You never know what could happen. And my dad's even said that people get weird when the moon's full. Brings out the crazies or something."

Malia scoffed. "So, you just memorize every full moon?"

"No, but I noticed it on the calendar. First Friday since school's back. There might be a party soon."

"Right, and you're always invited to those…"

"You know, I'm not sure I like this tone where I'm the only weird one in the group… You're not exactly getting invited out to things either."

"Not true. Danny told me there's a party this weekend."

"Danny?" Stiles pulled a face. "You're friends with Danny Mahealani?"

"He tutors me in math." She shrugged. "And he told me I should come to the party."

Scott's brow furrowed. "He did?"

"Yeah. He said it'd be fun."

"Danny doesn't count," Stiles decided. "We're talking about a real invitation, from someone that'd be into you."

"Of course he counts. Not everything has to be about hooking up. And anyway, if I wanted to, I'd have no problem." She poked a finger against his chest. "Got it?"

"Ow!" He rubbed his chest and leaned away from her. "Got it."

"When did Danny ask you to go?" Scott wondered.

Malia glanced at him. "During study period. He said he'd text me the details later."

"Well, are you gonna go?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't decided yet."

"But if you are, we're coming too, right?" Stiles perked up. "You wouldn't just leave us at home, all alone on a Friday night."

Malia raised an eyebrow. "Didn't really think about it. I'm not even sure if I'm going."

"If Danny knows about a party, then Lydia knows about it, which means she'll be there. Which means I have to be there."

"Right…" Malia nodded. "I forgot all of my social decisions are based on your debilitating crush on Lydia Martin."

"It's not debilitating…"

"Uh-huh."

Scott let out a frustrated huff then, drawing their attention as he kicked at piles of wet leaves. "I could've sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler…" He crouched down, digging all around.

"Maybe the killer moved the body," Stiles suggested.

"If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are expensive!"

Malia opened her mouth to say something, but paused as she caught sight of someone standing ahead of them. Stock still and dressed in all black, the word 'menacing' came to mind.

Stiles looked up, startled, and then started nervously swiping at Scott's shoulder, telling him to get up.

Scott abruptly stood and turned to face the guy with them.

The stranger started walking toward them, chin lifted aggressively. "What are you doing here?"

The boys stared at him and Stiles rubbed a hand over his shaved hair.

"Huh?" the man demanded. "This is private property."

"Uh, sorry, man, we didn't know," Stiles said.

"Yeah, we were just looking for something," Scott added. "But, uh, forget it."

Malia pursed her lips. "No."

"Excuse me?" the man asked, his brows hiked.

"Malia…" Stiles said in a semi-pleading tone, his expression begging her to be quiet.

She shot him a brief look and then returned her attention to the man in front of her. He wasn't old by any means; she'd guess early-twenties. But there was something about him, an energy that was aggressive and forceful. "We didn't do anything wrong. People walk these trails all the time."

"You're not on a trail…" the man pointed out. "In fact, you're pretty far off of one."

Her eyes narrowed. "Then maybe you should suggest a way back to it instead of freaking out over a little unintentional trespassing."

He snorted, unconvinced. "Unintentional?"

"Slightly intentional then." She shrugged. "We're just looking for an inhaler… and a phone." She kicked at a pile of mushy foliage pointedly. "We're not here to steal your precious leaves."

The man rolled his eyes. "Either way, you should go."

"That's fine. Really. I need to get to work anyway." Scott's fingers wrapped around Malia's forearm and tugged gently. "Come on. It's getting late."

"You kind of need your inhaler to breathe," she reminded him. "We're not leaving without it."

"Malia, it's fine. Let's just—"

"Hey!" the man called.

They looked over at him.

He dug something out of either of his jacket pockets and threw them.

Without thinking, Scott caught both, and then looked down, surprised to find his inhaler in one palm and Malia's phone in the other.

Without another word, the man turned on his heel to leave, stomping his way through the woods.

Malia frowned. "You could've just said you had them!"

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Scott mock-whispered, tugging on the sleeve of her sweater. "We don't even know who that guy is. He could be the killer for all we know."

Stiles shook his head. "You don't recognize him?"

"What? No. Who is he?"

"Just Derek Hale." Stiles looked between them, sighing at their confused expression. "You remember, right? His family. They all burned to death in a fire like, six years ago…"

Malia felt an aggressive tug at her stomach, like a knife searing through her guts. Regret swamped her in a way that made her knees shake. It'd been like this every since her mom and Kylie died. The very idea of someone losing their family was a stark reminder of what she'd felt like when half of hers died in a car accident. It was a cold and bitter feeling that never failed to make her heart clench and her throat burn.

Scott stared after the retreating Derek, his brow furrowed. "I wonder what he's doing back."

Malia wanted to be snarky. To pull herself out of the gloom spiral that had suddenly consumed her. She wanted to make a joke about how he'd clearly come back to be that old guy yelling 'get off my property' at strange kids, but she just didn't have it in her. Instead, she watched his dark figure disappear deeper into the thickening woods.

"Come on." Stiles tugged at her shoulder.

Malia shook off the strange feeling filling her from the toes up and turned toward them.

"You okay?" Scott's fingers cupped her elbow gently.

"Yeah. Fine. Just…" She glanced back, but Derek Hale was long gone from view. "That was weird, right?"

"Well, we are on his property…"

"Yeah, but, who just wanders around the woods looking for people to accuse of trespassing?"

"At least we're not walking away empty-handed." Scott handed her phone over to her.

Taking it, Malia swiped her thumb over the screen, unsurprised to find it dead. She just hoped it wasn't water-logged and destroyed. Tucking it in the pocket of her shorts, she sighed. "Whatever. Let's just go. I've had enough of the woods to last me the rest of the week."

Scott half-smiled. "Just the week?"

She snorted. "I have to jog somewhere."

…

It was pouring outside. Which should have been a warning not to take Shiloh for a walk, but not only had Malia promised her exactly that, but Shiloh had been stuck around the house all day and deserved a chance to stretch her legs and explore. Besides, for Malia, being outside was a good way to work through her thoughts and being at home wasn't always a joy. Her dad had been moody lately. More so than usual. It was no understatement to say that they didn't talk much as it was, but lately it felt like he went out of his way to avoid her. It caused a strange sort of tension in the house, which meant leaving it felt even better.

Since Shiloh was used to walking with her, Malia tended not to leash her as much as maybe the local bi-law enforcers would suggest. She was well-trained and answered when Malia called her back nine times out of ten. Besides, they were walking down a well-known road that didn't see a whole lot of traffic, late enough at night that there were even fewer people driving around. She figured they'd be okay.

After a quick stop at McDonalds— where she picked up some scrapped meat for Shiloh— they started the slow trek back toward the house. Malia still had some homework to get to before she went to bed, but she was having trouble focusing. There was just something about what happened in the woods earlier that wouldn't leave her alone; a weird feeling she got when Derek Hale confronted them. She couldn't explain it…

A squirrel darted across the road, drawing Shiloh's attention. Her whole body tensed before she started barking and raced after it.

"Shiloh, no! Hey, come back here!" Malia chased after her, shoes slapping against puddles, useless leash dangling from her hand. "Shiloh, stop!"

She didn't see the car. And she was pretty sure the car didn't see her.

But then the brakes squealed and a familiar yelp rang out. Malia's heart jumped in her chest and her feet stumbled beneath her. "No," she whispered. A cold blanket of fear wrapped around her. "No, no, no." She raced toward the car and skidded to a halt, falling to her knees on the wet cement.

The car door swung open and a frantic voice could be heard. "I'm so sorry! I- I didn't see you. I took my eyes off the road for just two seconds to change the song on my iPod and— It's no excuse!"

Malia let out a shaky, but relieved breath to find that Shiloh was still breathing. Clearly in pain, but alive, at least. Her heart beat fast under Malia's palm and she squirmed, whimpering.

"Is he okay?"

"She's alive, but she's hurt." Malia pushed her soaking wet hair back from her face and dipped lower, whispering soothing words as she rubbed her hands over Shiloh's head. "You're gonna be okay. I've got you, Shi."

"I- I can give you a ride. Is there a vet nearby? Whatever you need, I'll help!"

Malia looked up, half-angry and half-guilty. While a part of her wanted to put all the blame on this girl, an equal part of her knew that she should've leashed Shiloh. In the end, all that mattered was that Shiloh was alive and needed help. "I know a place. They're not technically open, but it's fine." She leaned back to stand and paused for a moment, suddenly recognizing the girl in front of her.

Allison stared at her, worried and scared. "I… I know you, don't I? You go to my school. I think I saw you at that lacrosse practice, too."

"Yeah. Malia Tate."

"Allison Argent." She gave a vague wave and an even more awkward smile. "Not exactly the first impression I like to leave."

"Help me get her into your car and we can change that."

"Yeah, of course. Just let me open the trunk." She hurried away, moving to the back of the car and getting the hatch open.

Malia reached for Shiloh, carefully lifting her up into her arms. She wasn't light, but she wasn't exactly heavy either. Truth be told, she was mostly fur. Usually soft, but with the rain, she felt more like a mushy cloud. Shiloh whimpered in her arms, shifting and crying in panicked fear.

"I know, I know, it hurts." Malia moved to the tail end of the car. "Shhh… You're gonna be okay." She gently laid Shiloh down on the floor of the trunk before quickly closing it and racing around to the passenger seat. Climbing in, she wiped the rain from her face with the sleeve of her jacket and looked to a panicked Allison. Her eyes were wide, her face drained of color, and her teeth were chattering. "It's all right. We just need to get her some help."

Allison nodded jerkily. "I really am sorry. I'm so stupid. I never should've looked away from the road—"

"Look, I'm not going to take a hit out on you or anything. I just want to get her fixed up." She nodded her chin forward. "Go that way. There's a clinic not too far from here."

Putting her car in gear, Allison took off, listening to each of Malia's directions intently.

"Can I ask…? What were you doing walking around in weather like this?" Allison shifted in her seat. "Not that I'm blaming you!"

"It's fine. Shiloh needed a walk. Rain or shine, that's kind of my job, so…" She shrugged. "Anyway, it's usually nice when it's like this. Most people stay inside, so we've got the roads to ourselves."

"Until some lunatic drives right over you…" Allison sighed.

Malia's mouth hitched up faintly. "Shiloh's tough. Seriously, she'll be okay. I know she will." She kind of had to be.

Malia loved her dog. Shiloh was a gift from her dad when she was eleven and the first thing she really attached to after the accident. Scott and Stiles were friends, but she could admit that she had been holding back even then. She liked them, but she was scared to get too close just in case they ended up leaving or dying on her, too. But once Shiloh was put in her arms, that fear melted away. She immediately became Malia's best friend and companion, and she'd been that way ever since. At five years old, she was still an excitable puppy and Malia refused to lose her to something like this.

Allison pulled the car into the parking lot just outside of the vet clinic and Malia hopped out.

"I'll go ahead and let them know we're here," Allison offered, already jogging toward the front door.

Malia made her way around to the back of the car, pressing a hand flat against the wet glass. She could hear Shiloh whining inside and her heart wrenched.

The slap of feet against wet pavement alerted her that Allison was back. She looked up to see a wet and surprised Scott staring back at her.

"Lia?" He reached for her, gripping her arms tightly. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"It was my fault," Allison said.

Malia glanced at her. "I'm pretty sure I take equal blame."

While Allison was unlocking the trunk, Malia focused to Scott. "She was off leash. It was stupid. I wasn't really thinking. She saw a squirrel and the next thing I know, she's a puppy speedbump."

A sharp bark let them know that Shiloh was scared and unnerved by everything going on around them.

Malia turned to see Allison jumping out of range.

"You okay?" Scott asked her, releasing Malia to step around the car. "She's just frightened."

Allison hugged her arms around herself nervously. "That makes two of us."

Scott's answering smile was gentle. "It's probably not you. Shiloh's pretty particular about who she likes."

Malia made her way around the car to better see her dog, who whimpered as soon as she caught sight of her. "I know… But don't worry, we'll get you fixed up. Right?" She looked to Scott.

"Of course." He stepped forward, pausing when Shiloh growled at him. He bent a little lower and caught Shiloh's eye, holding on for a few seconds. Abruptly, Shiloh let out a whine and let her head fall back in submission.

"Vet powers activated," Malia muttered.

Scott tossed her a grin before reaching in to pick Shiloh up in his arms. "Let's get you somewhere warm, huh?"

Malia closed the trunk door and followed Scott toward the clinic. When Allison lingered uncertainly behind them, Malia waved her in. "You might as well come. You won't be able to sleep if you don't find out what happens."

Allison hesitated only a second longer before hurrying to catch up, falling into stride at Malia's side.

They made their way to a back room, where Scott was laying her down on a metal table. Malia and Allison crowded around to watch him work. He gently probed Shiloh's body for any signs of blood or injury. When he was done, he turned to them with a grimace. "I think her leg is broken." His gaze darted between the two girls. "I've seen Deaton do plenty of splints. I can do it myself and then give her a painkiller for now."

Malia nodded, circling around to scrub her fingers between Shiloh's ears. "Guess that means walks are gonna be out for a bit."

"She'll need some time to heal, but I think she'll be okay."

Allison let out a puff of air, her face filled with relief. Her arms were wrapped around herself, rubbing her shoulders as she shivered.

Scott stood a little taller. "I have a shirt in my bag."

"Oh, I don't want to trouble you…" She shook her head.

But Scott was already moving, digging around in his bag and coming up with a long-sleeved grey shirt. "Here."

Allison smiled softly and accepted it. She left the room and made her way into the hallway to exchange her wet shirt for the new one.

Malia tried to keep her attention on Shiloh, but couldn't help a peek at Scott, whose attention had moved to the window in the door, where just a sliver of Allison's back could be seen.

When he looked back, he cleared his throat. "What? I didn't see anything."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Fix my dog, will you?"

He let out a sigh and then started moving around, getting everything he needed to put together a splint. While he worked, Malia kept Shiloh distracted. She grabbed one of the jars stocked full of treats and spoiled Shiloh rotten. In fact, she was pretty sure Shiloh was putting on a little bit of a show just to get more treats out of her. But, Malia didn't mind. She deserved it considering the pain she was probably in and the discomfort that was bound to follow in the coming weeks.

When Allison returned, she was playing with the end of the shirt awkwardly and looking between Malia and Scott. "So… I feel kind of stupid. Not just for the whole iPod thing, but I freaked out like a total girl."

Malia glanced at her. "What's wrong with that?"

"It was such a girly-girl reaction and I'm not a girly-girl." She hugged herself. "How were you so calm? I mean, it's your dog. If anybody should be upset, it's you."

Malia shrugged, her fingers tracing the edges of a brown patch around Shiloh's eye. "I told you, she's tough. She wasn't going to let a minor car accident take her out… Besides, I knew Scott was here. He'd never let anything happen to her." She dropped a kiss on Shiloh's cheek and ruffled her fur. When she looked up, both Allison and Scott were staring at her. "What?"

"Nothing." Scott cleared his throat and shook his head.

"She must get it from her owner," Allison said.

Malia's brow furrowed. "Get what?"

"The mental toughness." Allison smiled. "You were really great about everything. I think I'd be a mess. I kind of was, actually."

Malia hummed. "It's fine now. She'll live. She might even let you sign her cast."

"Oooh…" Allison laughed.

"You're lucky," Scott said. "I hear this breed is very litigious."

Allison clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, I bet she wished she never met me."

"Eh, she's forgiving." Malia nodded to her. "You can pet her if you want."

"Really?" Allison bit her lip.

"It's fine. She'll let you."

Slowly, Allison reached out, carefully placing her hand on Shiloh's left flank and rubbing her fingers through the still-wet fur.

"See? She likes you," Scott said, staring at Allison's profile.

Malia watched surreptitiously as the moment grew heavy. A strange pull between the two of them.

Allison looked over, eyeing Scott curiously. "What?"

He shook his head. "Sorry. You have an eyelash on your cheek."

Allison let out a laugh. "Oh. From the crying…" She reached up to rub at her face.

"Here…" Scott gently rubbed the eyelash away with the edge of his thumb, their gaze caught in the middle.

Allison smiled and said a soft, sweet, "Thanks."

Malia's gaze dropped to Shiloh; a cold zing running through her. It was weird. A part of her was happy for Scott. It was written all over his face just how much he liked Allison. But another part of her was… Not jealous. She refused to acknowledge that any of what she was feeling could be jealousy. But maybe something else. Something similar. Something that felt a lot like… envy.

"Malia?"

She looked up sharply, to find them staring back at her. "Sorry?"

"Allison was just saying that she could give you a ride back to your place, if you want."

"Oh." Her awkward-meter felt like it was blaring in alarm. "Uh… I can walk."

"It's still raining out." Scott frowned. "And you're at least a twenty-minute walk from here, in the dark, without Shiloh to protect you."

Malia pursed her lips at him. "I'm perfectly capable of keeping myself safe." The self-defence classes her dad had put her in since she was twelve made sure of that.

He sighed at her, his brows raised. "It's late. Shiloh's staying here overnight and I can't exactly give you a ride home on my bike."

Malia considered pointing out that she had, in fact, ridden on the handlebars of his bike countless times before. But, she was tired, and she really wanted to just go home, pass out in bed, and end this day already. "Fine." She looked to Allison. "Thank you."

"It's no problem, seriously." Her smile was genuine as she said, "I owe you a lot more than that considering what happened."

Malia didn't bother arguing about it anymore. Instead, she turned her attention back to Shiloh, giving her another kiss and hugging her neck. "I'll come see you tomorrow, okay?"

Shiloh yawned up at her.

"I'll get her settled in a kennel," Scott promised.

Together, the three of them made their way outside to Allison's lone car in the parking lot.

"Text me when you get home?" Scott asked, looking at Malia beseechingly.

She rolled her eyes. "Because the short walk from Allison's car to my front door is oh so deadly…" When he wouldn't give up on the puppy-dog look, she sighed. "Yeah, fine, I'll text you."

His smile was warm and lopsided.

Malia made her way around the car and hopped into the passenger seat. She tried not to eavesdrop, but Allison left her door open as she and Scott talked.

"So, um— I was wondering— I mean— Is it really family night on Friday, or do you think maybe you'd like to go to that party with me?"

Malia went still, her hand tightening around the handle of her seatbelt as she plugged it in.

"Family night was a total lie," Allison admitted.

"So, is that a yes, you'll go?"

The hope in Scott's voice simultaneously made Malia's stomach lift and sink. It was like a boat in rocky seas. She didn't know whether to be happy for him or incredibly disappointed for herself. Hadn't she just been thinking that anybody would be lucky to date Scott? That he deserved to be happy and have someone? She still thought that. She was just becoming all too aware that the 'someone' in question had been a little more specific than she was willing to admit.

"Definitely yes," Allison said.

Scott let out a happy laugh and nodded. "Okay, great. I, uh, I'll see you tomorrow then, at school."

"Yeah. Have a good night. And… thanks. For tonight, all of this."

"Sure. No problem."

As Allison climbed in the car, Scott bent, waving at Malia one last time.

She sent him a faint and forced smile before turning her attention elsewhere, staring out the window in the opposite direction.

Allison pulled out of the parking lot and toward the road. "You're gonna have to tell me where I'm going again."

"Sure. It's that way." She pointed and then sunk into the seat.

The ride was quiet. Uncomfortably so.

Allison's fingers drummed against the steering wheel and she opened her mouth a few times to say something but never quite got it out. Eventually, she blurted, "So, you and Scott are friends?"

Malia hummed.

"You're close then?"

A beat passed before Malia tore her gaze away from the window and turned it on Allison. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I tend to be blunt."

"I picked up on that, yeah."

"I like to think it's equal parts impatience and not really caring what other people think. So, just ask me what you really want to ask me."

Allison nodded, but nibbled on her lip for a few seconds. "I guess, what I'm trying to ask is… I'm not stepping on any toes, right? Going to this party with him. Basically, going on a date, it's not… I mean, you and Scott aren't…?"

A lump filled Malia's throat. A very petty part of her wanted to tell Allison that actually, she was in Scott's bed last night. No, it wasn't some heady, passion-filled sex fest, but it was intimate in its own way. And it was special to her. But then she remembered the awe and excitement on his face when Allison was just inches away from him; when his thumb brushed her cheek; when she agreed to go to the party with him. Even though a part of Malia felt possessive and territorial over Scott, the rest of her just wanted him to be happy, and it was being made abundantly clear to her that he wasn't looking for that in her. It was okay. It hurt, yeah. But it was okay.

"We're friends. Just friends."

"Are you sure? Because you hesitated a bit."

"I'm sure." She stared at Allison. "He's one of my best friends and he always will be. I'm not going to give you some cliched speech about kicking your ass if you break his heart. Hearts break and things don't always work out. All I really know is that he really seems to like you, and I think you like him, too. So, go for it, I guess."

Allison nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Turn left up here. My house is just up that road."

The dirt road was bumpy, meaning Allison had to slow down unless they wanted to be bouncing around the car, jarred left and right the whole way down. But eventually, they pulled up just short of Malia's lawn. The porch light was still on, just as she left it, but the rest of the lights were out, meaning her dad had long gone to bed.

"Thanks." Malia reached for the door handle.

"Let me know what the damage is with Shiloh. I'll pay for the medical bills and everything. Or my dad will and I'll come up with some kind of repayment plan with him."

"Will do." She climbed out of the car then, shivering from the cold that had recently sunk into her bones.

"Hey, Malia…" Allison leaned over the center console to see her better. "Um, I know we don't know each other very well, and we definitely met under some really awful circumstances, but… Maybe we can hang out sometime? If you're up for that?"

Malia nodded slowly. "Uh, sure. Yeah. We can make that work."

"Okay. Great." Allison smiled. "Well, I'll let you go. I think I've interrupted your night enough. See you at school tomorrow!"

"Yeah, you, too." Malia closed the car door behind her and made her way up the drive. She hopped up the stairs of her porch, looking back to wave goodbye to the slowly retreating car, headlights nearly blinding her in the process.

Letting herself inside the house, Malia let out a sigh. A stab of guilt and loneliness filled her as the familiar sound of Shiloh's nails clacking against the wood floor didn't follow behind her. As brave as she'd been with both Allison and Scott, a part of her was scared. Shiloh was her most beloved companion. She wasn't sure what she'd do without her, but she knew she'd be a mess.

Making herself a peanut butter and honey sandwich and pouring herself a glass of milk, she took both with her to her room. Studying was out, her head just wasn't in it, but a quick snack before bed was exactly what she needed. Her room felt distinctly empty without Shiloh there to steal half her bed and beg for her sandwich. Malia was already looking forward to hearing Dr. Deaton tell her she could bring Shiloh home, even if she'd have to force her to take it easy for a while.

Leaving her snack on her desk, Malia stripped down out of her wet clothes and dropped them in her hamper. As tired as she was and as much as she wanted to head straight to bed, she instead dragged herself to her bathroom. Turning up the water as hot as she could take it, she hopped in for a quick shower, mostly to warm her body back up. The rain had soaked through and left her feeling achy and shivery. Not a feeling she enjoyed.

When she jumped out, she pulled on a pair of sweat pants and the sweater she'd borrowed from Scott that morning before making her way back to bed. Her sandwich had gone a little dry in the time she'd been gone, but she hardly noticed. As hungry as she was, she ate it in three giant bites and then dusted the crumbs off her hands.

Crawling into bed, she turned out her bedside lamp and unplugged her phone, happy to see it light up without problem. Thumbing through a few messages, she found a bunch from Stiles, one of which let her know he'd heard about Shiloh and hoped she felt better soon. Another saying he heard Scott had a date with Allison, followed by a celebration emoji and then a question mark.

Malia sighed before returning the celebration emoji in kindness.

—'you know you can be honest with me right?' he texted back. 'it's okay to be upset. if anybody knows something about unrequited love, i think i got the market cornered.'

Malia frowned. — 'i'm fine. thanks for worrying but i'm okay. i'm happy for him. REALLY.'

—'okay. but if you change your mind about venting, you know where i am.'

She smiled. —'i know.'

As much as Scott was her best friend, Malia sometimes forgot that Stiles was equally as important. They each brought their own strengths to the table; neither of them better nor worse than the other. She was lucky to have them. For that reason, she sent Stiles a heart and ghost emoji.

He replied with a laughing-to-tears emoji and —'morbid, but it works. love you too. night.'

Malia grinned and turned over onto her side, ready to put her phone away and get some sleep. But just as she was about to put it down, it dinged, calling her attention once more.

—'hey, did you make it home okay?'

Malia stared at Scott's name on her messages for a moment. She considered not answering. It was dumb and petty, she knew that, but she still wanted to do it. Instead, she wrote back— 'yup. just heading to bed. i'll see you tomorrow.'

—'okay.'

Her phone went quiet for all of a minute before— 'are you sure you're okay? i know you were probably scared and worried about shiloh. but i think she's going to be okay. she'll be back on her feet in no time.'

— 'i'm fine. and i know. she takes after me.'

— 'so we're okay then?'

— 'yeah of course. why wouldn't we be?'

— 'idk. i just wanted to make sure.' He added a heart emoji to the end of his sentence.

She held her phone above her face, staring at that bright red monstrosity, mocking her like an asshole. It wasn't the first time he'd sent that particular emoji. Scott was affectionate. He'd sent it to her a thousand times in the past. But for some reason, now it just felt different. Wrong somehow. Like vinegar on an open wound. Scott had a date on Friday. Maybe by Saturday, he'd officially have a girlfriend. And here she was, pining over him like some kind of lovesick puppy. It was dumb and it only made her angry with herself that she still cared.

With a sigh, she quickly typed out: —'we're good. i'll see you tomorrow. night.' No hearts. No nothing. Just quick, short, and simple. She knew he wouldn't pick up on that subtle change. In the end, it was really for her. A reminder to let go and move on.

—'night'

With that, Malia put her phone on her bedside table, face down. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Dropping her face to her pillow, she squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to sleep. Tomorrow, she could start fresh. Just friendship, nothing more. She'd free herself of these stupid feelings if it was the last thing she did.

tbc

author's note: i want to seriously thank all of you that left a review on the first chapter! it was super encouraging and i'm really hoping you'll all stick around through the rest of this fic. i know it's taking a little time to pick up, but i'm establishing malia as a character in this verse and fleshing out her friendship with scott, stiles, and eventually, allison.

in the original pilot, allison accidentally hits a dog which leads to her first big moment with scott. i saw an opportunity to explore that with malia and give her and allison an awkward beginning point for their friendship.

also, i'm currently in complete denial and have not had a chance to watch the series finale. i'm hoping to get to it this weekend, in between writing. i have a ton of this already done, but it will be a pretty massive story. so, something to look forward to! :)

i hope you liked it, please try to leave a review! :)
- Lee | Fina